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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28364112">you gotta be so cold (to make it in this world)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedCrimez89/pseuds/RedCrimez89'>RedCrimez89</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Additional Characters Mentioned in Author’s Note, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Gen, One Word Prompts, Prompt Fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:36:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,899</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28364112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedCrimez89/pseuds/RedCrimez89</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>a prompt filled a day keeps the boredom away.</p><p>aka, 53 prompts for ur favorite batfamily characters</p><p>(taking a couple of suggested prompts as well)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tim Drake &amp; Damian Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Forgive and Forget (or do neither all!)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>WARNING: this chapter contains the word “god damn” as well as very brief mentions of alcohol. again, the mention of alcohol is only for a second but if this hits a little too close to home for you, then please tread carefully.</p><p> </p><p>Hi there welcome to “ I try to write for 53 days while trying to open up my<br/>✨I M A G I N A T I O N ✨”</p><p>Do I know how many days this will take? ( technically yes but for the sake of my terrible humor,) no. </p><p>Do I know if I will just totally forget about this and move on to something else? (yes) no.</p><p>But am I going to do it anyway? yes. because I refuse to give up or maybe I’m just insane. either way I present to you;</p><p>Jason Todd and Roy Harper with the prompt, “ the taste of smoke”</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"><span class="s1">The past always felt like a long forgotten treasure chest to Jason. Not this past, but the past before it. The past of the boy who stole tires for money and had been so full of anger </span>yet so full of energy. The boy who’s spirit had died in a puddle of blood on a cold warehouse floor, and who’s body had only died after five seconds turned to none. Sometimes Jason can taste the ash on his tongue, can feel the smoke going in his lungs with every breath even though he wasn’t alive to actually taste those things. Sometimes his body burns in the places they had been smashed and broken and beaten. Sometimes he can hear the thundering boom of the ticking time bomb, can hear the jiggling sound of a locked door knob.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When that happens, he’ll simply lay on his old, ratty couch and stare at the paint chipped walls of his second favorite apartment until they go away. Until they all go away. The whispers of him, the glances, the stained red lips and oh so horrific laughter. Jason will drink and drink and drink as much alcohol as needed in the hopes of forgetting even just for one peaceful goddamn second.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tonight, he finds is one of those nights.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s laying on his old, ratty couch staring at the paint chipped walls of his second favorite apartment, chest heaving and mind spurring images of a past life he doesn’t want to own. A life he had thought would last forever but only lived for a matter of seconds.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">( Why can’t he just forget for one second? One godforsaken second?)</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With a glance to the creaking of his window comes the sight of blue hued moonlight and red hair that he could recognize in a crowd of one million.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">Roy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There are no words that come forth to Jason but his friend’s lips move, a soft look soothing out the creases of his face. Jason doesn’t question the soft fabric of a blanket covering his body, doesn’t question the way his couch sinks down near his legs or the buzz of his TV or even the hand that will pat his ankle if he needs to switch his position. There’s only one question that goes unanswered. One question that he’s always too afraid to ask for loss of an answer.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">“</span>
    <span class="s2"> Why can’t I just forget?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. you never really know them to you meet ‘em</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>no warnings today :)</p><p>Day 2 folks. I’m honestly surprised I’m actually posting. I had no faith in my ability to post continuously for 53 days. Then again, it’s only day two heh. I don’t really edit these after writing them so if anyone finds some spelling issue or something alike, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to point it out. If anyone wants to leave a prompt in the comments, feel free to do so and I’ll eventually get to it.</p><p>For today’s prompt we have:<br/>Tim Drake and Jack Drake with the prompt<br/>“ Write about staying quiet when you feel like shouting.”</p><p>I haven’t actually gotten to Robin: Unmasked so I don’t know how it actually went down? So I decided to just kind of wing it though I imagine it went nothing like this.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“ What were you thinking!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Had been the first words dealt, the beginning of a long and miserable conversation Tim was too tired to currently have. He only continued to stalk through the house, throat tight and pressure behind his eyes, heart at his feet with anger in his chest. His eyes are red from the tears he’s spilt and his mouth is dry. He’s tired. Tired of explaining, of lying, of having to somehow justify the parts of his life his father had never known of.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe if he paid more attention to Tim, there wouldn’t be a secret life to uncover in the first place.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">( Then again the man still thought he hated video games and that Monopoly was the only game he’d ever played. So there wasn’t much hope there in the first place, right?)</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“ Don’t you walk away from me!” His father calls from behind him, sounding just as furious as Tim feels. “ We’re going to talk about this!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“ About what.” Tim whips around to face him, eyes burning and chest practically on fire at this point. This was it. He’s spent too long being quiet, too long being put down and unnoticed and now he can feel the flames come back up, can feel the blazing lava oozing up his throat and back out his mouth. He’s honestly surprised it’s taken him this long. Surprised it’s coming out at all. It been </span>
  <span class="s2"><em>years</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The urge to corrupt and destroy is something Tim has never felt. He finds himself wanting the punch the walls in and kick anything in his way, wants to feel some sort of satisfaction or pain that he can control in order to feel better. Tim pinches himself on his leg, the only thing keeping him from doing something he’ll regret.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“ About what you’ve been doing for the past few months- the past few </span>
  <span class="s2"><em>years</em>.” </span>
  <span class="s1">The anger in Jack’s eyes are replaced with something, dare he say, akin to worry and desperation. ( But Drakes were never worried or desperate. At least they weren’t supposed to be.)</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“ I’m worried about you Tim.” He admit, moving forward to make some type of contact that never happens.</span>
</p><p class="p2">Jack isn’t angry.</p><p class="p2">Tim still is.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“ What’s there to talk about?” He spits out, eyes hard and fists clenched. It’s stupid. It’s childish. But he needs this off his chest, needs this to be good and done for.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“ You already know what happened. I’ve quit and threw away every connection, every domino mask. What more do you want?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“ I want to know why.” Is the answer he gets. “ I want to know why you felt the need to lie to me Tim.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tim laughs, humorless and empty, before brushing past the man. “ Maybe because every other time I had something to say, you were never there.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Before Jack can get another word in Tim is already out the door, slamming it shut leaving him with the echoes of his rage.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p2">The phone rings.</p><p class="p2">Once. Twice. Three-</p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">“ Tim?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“ Can you come get me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">“ Ti-“</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“ Please. Just- please.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">
    <em>“ I’ll be there in five.”</em>
  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So I decided to leave the leave this open ending so you can decide for yourself who you think Tim called :)</p><p>Again, if anyone has any prompt ideas feel free to comment them and I’ll get to them!</p><p>Have a good day, drink you water, and tell me what you thought of this? &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. (you’ll never be alone) i'll be with you from dusk till dawn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING: major character death. that’s pretty much it folks :)</p>
<p>Ahh hello there! It’s day three of this madness and I’m feeling pretty good about it actually. This one got pretty angsty quickly but tomorrow I promise to do a flat out fluff rather than hurt/ comfort. </p>
<p>This is set after Damian comes back while Dick is “dead”</p>
<p>As always, if anyone has any prompt ideas I’d love to hear them for future reference! </p>
<p>And now I present to you:</p>
<p>Tim and Damian with the prompt “ Sunrise/Sunset”</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He couldn’t sleep.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not really.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">How does one sleep when they know that someone they had loved, someone they had fought and bleed for, was six feet below, sleeping forever.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not Damian.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He couldn’t do it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">He was weak for this inability to do anything. Weak for not getting up to be useful for just awhile. Weak for not being there. Weak for... for everything.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Damian just stares outside his window, heart heavy and limbs numb. He hears Titus whine, feels a wet nose rub against his palm but that only makes him sadder because Richard can’t feel anything. Richard is dead. He’s dead, and lifeless, and not breathing and although those words all hold the same meaning, they still run true. In the end, he supposes, it was an eye for an eye; Damian died. Richard mourned. (At least he hopes so. Not because he wanted Richard to be sad, of course, but because it would’ve meant the man had missed him.) Richard died. And so now it was Damian’s turn to morn for him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Damian hated him for it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Damian hated himself for hating him for it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It wasn’t Richards fault he died. So why was Damian upset with him? He didn’t really have the right to be upset with a dead man, for said man couldn’t justify anything to him. It made him feel worse in the end.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">He’</span>
    <span class="s1">s </span>
    <span class="s2">mad at Richard for leaving. Mad because he had came back, elated, and quickly learned to never let them float as high again because in the end, you could only ever float back down to bedrock.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His somber silence is broken by the turning of his doorknob, sudden and loud. He hears the hinges creak and then there are footsteps. <em>One, two, three</em>. They stop.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“ Come on,” a familiar voice, </span>
  <span class="s2"><em>Timothy’s voice,</em> </span>
  <span class="s1">says, barely above a whisper. He sounds as though he hasn’t spoken for days on days, throat tight and dry from the disuse.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Damian simply continues to lay on his bed, quiet and unmoving. Because what’s the point? A world without Richard was a miserable world and a miserable world was one Damian didn’t know if he could live in.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“ He’d hate that your doing this to yourself, you know. He’d hate that it’s because of him too.” Drake - Timothy says and Damian finally turns around to see his brother standing in his doorway, skin paler than usual and eyes red from tears. He’s dressed in an oversized W.E hoodie that is old and stained, undoubtedly Richard’s. He also sports a black pair of sweatpants and white socks that don’t match, most likely to block out the frigid chill of Gotham.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Damian understands.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">He’s been wearing his older brother’s clothes all week as well.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">( Gotham feels colder with Richard gone, despite the fact the man had been stationed in Bludhaven most of the time.)</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“ What’s the point?” Damian asks, throat tight and suddenly breathless like his lungs aren’t working correctly. Like he can’t breath. <em>Richard can’t breathe, </em>his mind unhelpfully supplies.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“ For him,” his brother responds. “ For us. So we never forget.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They have a staring contest for a little while and no one says anything. No one blinks. No one moves. No one says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Damian gets up.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">When Bruce goes searching for his boys that evening, he finds them huddled outside, Tim’s arm around Damian while the youngest leans into his side, rocking back and forth. There’s a faint mumbling of talking and he knows they’ve both cried, have both grieved for absolutely nothing.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"><em>I’m sorry</em>, </span>
  <span class="s1">Bruce thinks as he watches them from a distance.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">And so Bruce approaches them slowly, his heart at his feet and fists clenched.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>( He never tells them anything.)</em>
  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I really hope Tim wasn’t too ooc here? I did my best to make sure he was still somewhat resembling normal Tim but then again, grief does things to people in indescribable ways. If there are any mistakes I’m sorry. I never actually edit any of these so..... oops?</p>
<p>Hope you enjoyed and make sure to drink that water!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. From The Moon and Back</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Damian had always wondered what went so wrong between his parents.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ahh still getting back in the grove of writing so it might be a little longer before I get to prompts. I just wanna make sure I put all my effort into them but I promise they’re coming soon!</p>
<p>And now for the regularly scheduled program:<br/>Damian with the prompt “ There was sadness in her face as she told him he looked a lot like his father”</p>
<p>Hope y’all enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was sadness in her face as she told him he looked a lot like his father. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Damian had always wondered what had gone so wrong between them for his mother to adopt such a grim look whenever the topic of conversation steered his way. She had this look in her eye, like she wasn’t there at all, drifting into the memories of her past. Almost like she would rather be there than here with Damian. He had never asked about it for fear of punishment or worse, disappointment, but the fact she missed him was evident enough. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It baffled Damian how she could miss someone who had left her so easily.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If they had truly loved one another enough, if they had truly wanted to stay, wouldn’t they have done anything humanly possible to make that true?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">When Damian asked Mama she had given him a sad smile, like he would never understand, and said, <em>“ Some people are just not meant to be forever.” </em></p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Like forbidden lovers.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">Like two people who could always meet in the middle but never sail across the sea.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Like a pair who wished to be as well worked as an oiled machine, but could never quite manage to be compatible with each other.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">He had always wanted to ask more, had always wanted to know if she blamed him and if his father still held the same hidden affection as his mother did. And if he didn’t, what did that mean? </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What if he had left because he did not want Damian?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What if he did not love him or his Mama and when the day finally came, would reject his own flesh and blood?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The thought terrified him during the day and haunted his dreams at night.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All the training, all the violence and the death and the blood? It was all for Father.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Damian was going to give him to entire world and place it on his shoulders like Damian had once carried on his own, even it meant the world would be stained with a little more crimson red.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">Damian swung his sword again.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Red, red, red</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">Maybe he’d give Father the moon as well.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This one was pretty random and last minute but I think I’m satisfied. It’s a little shorter than I’d like it be but as they say, less is sometimes more.</p>
<p>So boom.</p>
<p>Make sure to stay safe and drink water and if anyone has any prompt suggestions feel free to leave them on the comments :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just want to remind everyone that most of these prompted writing will be less than 1000 words, hence the reason I’ve decided to do 53 of them for the ultimate torture, I mean, uhh... experience. Heh.</p><p>Either way if anyone had any prompt suggestions whether it be one word, some dialogue, or any other form of prompt, feel free to list it in the comments and I’d be happy to try and take a spin at it if my imagination could bear having to come up with something lot write.</p><p>Enjoy you day and stay safe!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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